Who Says
by LinleyHamilton123
Summary: No, she was going to win. She knew that. She'd been telling herself that forever. That was why she wanted this. To win. "Who says I'm going to win?" she said in a whisper before she could stop herself. Now she looked like an idiot.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Hunger Games, or Clove or Cato or the training building or the Capitol or the actual Games or Brutus or Enobaria or- this could honestly go on forever, there's so many things I don't own. I mean, if we keep going like this, I'm gonna have to start admitting that I don't own a car (I can't drive) or an airplane (I can't fly one even legally). Wait, I just did. Never mind.

Yes, I am actually posting a story in the middle of the day that I actually wrote on the computer! Exciting, right? Okay, maybe not. But I was reading lots of Cato/Clove stuff and I'm just loving them more and then I wrote this! I'm not looking forward to another yelling match with my sister (apparently I'm a traitor because I'm supposed to hate Clove and like Glimmer), but I'll handle it for this (aren't I brave?) ;)

Anyway, I've got a little poll idea thing going, which is whether you like Clove or Glimmer more (not only them but with Cato)? I've got the poll on my profile, but you could also just answer in a review. I don't really care about number of votes, I'm just curious as to what the majority is.

Anyway, here it is!

* * *

Clove stared out the window in the main living room on the second floor of the Training Center. The streets were almost empty now, because, after all, the people had to go home and get sleep so they could watch the Games begin tomorrow. It wasn't like they could not get less then ten hours of sleep. And it wasn't like they could not watch the Games. Of course they couldn't. They were Capitol people.

"Clove?" Clove didn't even have to turn around to know it was Cato. He was the only person who would be up at this time apart from her.

"Yes?" she said, not turning her eyes away from the window. "It's midnight, and we have to be up by six tomorrow morning."

"So why're you up?" Cato asked in that sly way of his. "It's midnight, and we have to be up by six tomorrow morning."

Clove rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. She wasn't interested in fighting back and forth with Cato. She did that plenty already, every morning at breakfast and when they were walking down to training. Everybody knew them for it.

Cato sat down next to Clove on the windowsill. "I heard Brutus say all the tributes stay up late the night before the Games."

Clove shrugged, still not saying anything. Enobaria hadn't said anything like that, but then again, Enobaria hadn't said really anything at all. She made Clove pretty, told her to fight, and then said "Bye." Brutus had been more help then she had been.

"He said Enobaria did, too. Almost all night."

Clove looked away. Enobaria had been a weak, girly tribute. She had won because others had killed each other, while she'd sat above in a tree and flashed smiles at the crowd to win food. Dad had told Clove all of this. Not to model herself after Enobaria, but to fight hard. Of course that's what she was going to do. She was the best fighter. She was going to fight hard.

"Clove?" Cato was looking at her. She wanted to look away more, but she couldn't without looking like she was purposely avoiding him. Which she was.

"Yes?" she said again, just like before.

"You've trained for this," he said, not looking at her anymore. Just the crowds.

Of course she had. She'd trained for this since she was a little girl. All the tributes from 1, 2, and 4 had. But that didn't mean anything. She was a wonderful fighter, she could easily win, and she was strong. Of course she had trained. It would have been wrong not to. Besides, she liked fighting. She wanted the Games. Yes, she did.

"Of course I have," she said in a snappy tone that fit her personality, but not how she felt right now. "You have too."

He nodded. "Yep. We both have. I've been training longer, though. Two years longer."

She knew that, too. "It doesn't make a difference," she managed to insist. "I can be a better fighter still."

"You can be," he agreed. "But are you?"

This conversation was going nowhere. Clove remained silent, her eyes trained on the corner of the window. Maybe Cato would just go away. It was nearing on 12:30, and the streets were simply deserted now. Maybe he would decide she wasn't worth his time.

"You must be a better fighter if you're going to win," Cato said thoughtfully. When he wasn't deciding which people he was going to kill first in the arena, he was quite calm and composed. Almost nice, too, but that was just to her. Glimmer made him sick, and that fire girl Katniss made him just as angry as she made Clove.

Where did he get the idea she was going to win? That was ridiculous. Everybody knew she was going to die on possibly the first day. She didn't have any chance of winning. The boy from 11 could kill her in an instant.

No, she was going to win. She knew that. She'd been telling herself that forever. That was why she wanted this. To win.

"Who says I'm going to win?" she said in a whisper before she could stop herself. Now she looked like an idiot. She'd said that. And she was. She wasn't weak.

Cato seemed to understand, though Clove hoped there wasn't anything to understand. "Everybody," Cato said, to Clove's surprise. "They all know you can."

Clove glanced at Cato. He wasn't looking at her, but out the window instead. She sighed. "You're going to win, Cato. I'll be lucky if I survive the night."

Cato turned to her. "Don't worry about it, Clove."

She shook her head. She didn't worry. She wasn't worrying. She was just imagining. That was worse.

She looked away, breathing hard. She wished he would go away. Leave her alone. If she wasn't alone before tomorrow, she would die before she even stepped into the arena.

But instead of leaving, Cato slid his arm around Clove, pulling her in.

Before she could stop herself, she buried her face in him and burst into tears. She wasn't supposed to cry. She was tough. But right now, it didn't even matter. Cato wouldn't tell anybody.

* * *

Did you like it? I hope so! It only took me like fifteen minutes to write, so any compliments will amaze me! Please review, because I have a strangely little amount of reviews. However, those people who are part of that strangely little amount have my deepest thanks!

As a note to **koyamon-lover**, my past Clove/Cato story I actually wrote as a oneshot, but I might continue it if I can think of something to continue it with. I tried to continue it, but it's like the same as the book already and I just don't like doing fights where the people I love are slightly the bad guys. But they're not bad, they're just trying to win! And they should've! (I hate Peeta anyway, and it wouldn't really bother me if Katniss had died as long as Cato and Clove won together).

Anyway, I'm not trying to start any fights myself, except for the one my sister is going to start shortly, so maybe I'd best stop ;)

Linley :)


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